Blood Servant
by Slow to Dream
Summary: "I want you." she breathed out. "Lenalee?" "Shhh..." Allen couldn't move despite Lenalee leaning close to his neck, feeling her hot breath blow against his skin, making him shiver. Ever so slowly, she dipped her fangs inside his neck, drawing blood and sealing the deal: She was a vampire. Vamp!Lenalee x Allen,
1. I'm A Monster

**Title: **Blood Servant…you know it's up there, right?

**Author: **Me

**Fandom: **DGM…c'mon, you should know this.

**Rating: **Rated T. For making out, suckin' blood, and using naughty words. Like fuck.

**Pairing: **There is so much goddamn Yullen out there this fandom is going to collapse on itself like a dark hole or some shit. Allena, Allen x Lenalee.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Katsura Hoshino's _DGM_. Wish she would haul her ass in continuing the manga, though. I don't own the characters, or pretend to have any fantasy affiliation with them (End-of-chapter-skit-writers, beware.). Neither do I own any music or have any affiliation to bands that I may or may not have alluded to/downright took titles from. I stole that part from Marsh of Sleep. Please don't sue me… my anus is tight and I want to keep it that way.

**A/N: I do not own DGM, or the song **_**I'm A Problem (The Monster Remix) by Becky G ft. will. **_

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**I'm A Monster**

"_**Remember tonight…for it is the beginning of always." **_**– Dante Alighieri**

* * *

**Allen Walker**

Allen didn't dare move.

His breath quickened and a hot flush crept up his face. He was always like this when she was near him, _touching_ him. It didn't help that Lenalee was comfortable with getting close to him; sometimes she even held his hand. When that would happen, the spluttering and blushing was almost auto-_freakin'_-matic. Trust the innocent virgin to get worked up over casual contact.

But this situation was ten times worse.

There they were, inside a private carriage in the middle of Romania, all wound up around each other tighter than a spring. It started out so innocently, just a head on his shoulder, Lenalee fast asleep. But Allen found out the hard way she couldn't sit still in her sleep.

Somehow, Allen found the petite exorcist settled on his lap, snuggled up against him like a cat. Allen thanked the Lord that Komui was at HQ. Seriously, that sister-complex _freak_ would have killed him just for _looking_ at her asleep.

At this point, Allen might as well been a stone statue. A slight movement could've woken her, hell, even breathing was dangerous. Waking someone up was rude, but at this point being polite was the furthest thing from Allen's mind. He could only cringe in terror at how this situation was going to play out if Lenalee woke up right about now.

As if God was answering his prayers, a sudden jolt of the carriage sent both of them flying out his seat, plastering Allen's face into the window and throwing Lenalee into the opposite seat across from his. Allen heard a muffled voice calling out through the carriage walls.

"M' apologies 'bout that ditch we hit! Hope it didn't jostle y'all up too bad!" the carriage driver shouted through the carriage.

"We're fine, thank you!" Allen chimed back, peeling his face off of the window.

Lenalee woke up without the slightest clue as to what had happened.

"Are we there yet, Allen-kun?" Lenalee yawned, adding to her drowsy look.

"I don't think so." Allen said as he looked out the window curiously.

Allen took the time to look out the window to stare at where they were. The sinister-looking trees made refuge for the dark as heavy fog only added to the forest's creepiness. Allen wouldn't be surprised if they found trouble here.

Allen's train of thought ran short when the carriage came to a sudden halt. He could hear the horses carrying them whine loudly and paw the dirt; something was bothering them.

As he stepped out of the carriage with Lenalee, they were rudely greeted with the freezing climate and thick fog. The driver stepped over to them, looking flustered and slightly afraid. Portly and short, he took on an appearance of a homeless, greasy Santa. He took a moment to stare around the sinister forest before speaking.

"This s' far as I can take yeh. Yer on yer own at this point." hobo-Santa announced wearily, "Horses r' spooked and I dun wanna risk m' neck anymore past this here point."

Allen took a moment to innocently contemplate if Romanians can even take on a Southern accent when Lenalee spoke up from behind him.

"That's fine, sir. We'll be walking back down after this, so you don't have to ride up here again. You can wait by the bottom."

The portly carriage rider nodded and went back on his carriage. "Sure, sure…" he muttered under his breath, "If yeh aren' killed by then…"

Allen smiled cheerily and waved as the carriage sped off. He didn't really blame the man for being afraid; civilians aren't used to things like this. But Allen has seen and heard of worse unholy attacks.

"So, an Akuma is hiding around here…" Lenalee muttered as she squinted through the fog, before yawning and stretching leisurely.

Allen took in her slender, lithe, trembling body as she extended herself. Some girls would _kill _for legs like that; perfectly slender and curvaceous. It didn't help that her skin looked _deliciously_ creamy smooth; a lot was revealed from the length of that skirt she was wearing. Those goose-bumps on her skin—No! Bad Allen!

Allen tore his eyes from her body as he felt a hot blush set on his face. He hoped the fog was enough to hide his torched face. It's been getting harder and harder to get his eyes off her lately. Maybe it was the fact she was always next to him, or smiling at him…

No. No no no, they were friends. _Frrriiieeennnddssss_. He couldn't like her like that; they were too good of friends. But then again, there could always be a possibility that—

"Allen-kun?"

Allen landed back on earth again. "Hm?"

Allen didn't notice they had been walking deeper into the forest the entire time. Talk about head over heels.

Lenalee sighed impatiently before repeating what she had said. "The reports say that the victims' bodies haven't been found. People who came up here to investigate have also gone missing. "

Allen took a moment to ponder this. "This doesn't seem like the work of an Akuma."

"**Akuma? Please, do not offend me by confusing those vermin with something as such as I."**

Allen immediately activated his Innocence. The tendrils of white wisps invaded the fog, lighting the dark forest with its presence. Allen fought to suppress a shiver…that voice was so ancient, so old and powerful. It was as if the voice was calling out to him, darkly whispering temptations to follow the voice. It was so soothing. So relaxing. Maybe he should just follow the voice; how bad could it possibly be…?

No.

Allen snapped out of it and angrily pulled at his left arm, shifting the Innocence into a thick broadsword. He'd almost been seduced by a _voice_. A _man's_ voice, no less. First Lenalee's legs, now a man's voice. He really let himself go on this one.

"Lenalee, block out his voice! It…" Allen looked around, finding himself completely alone, "…Lenalee…?"

Oh goddamn it. If that voice was strong enough to seduce a _guy_ (being a _pathetic_ _virgin _otherwise), it was definitely enough to grab a hold of a girl. Allen flew around the forest, putting aside his burning lungs, shouting Lenalee's name.

The fog around him thickened again and the voice appeared again. That rough, hoarse voice that was smooth and sensual at the same time; it was mocking him.

"**Your companion seems to have abandoned you. How amusing."**

Allen's eye twitched in annoyance. That voice wasn't going to trick him again.

"What are you?" Allen interrogated, "You said you were 'something', not 'someone'."

Allen just needed to hear that voice again. If he could find out where it's coming from, he could find the person behind this. And beat him senseless for making him go gaga over his voice.

"**I am not considered human. I am much older than that foolish Earl and his pitiful Noah."**

So he knew about the Noah. Who could he be? _What_ could he be?

"Where's Lenalee?! If you hurt her, I swear…"

"**Is she precious to you, Exorcist? All the more reason to take her from you…"**

At this point, Allen was beyond freaked out. Was she safe, or was she at the mercy of the owner of the voice? He didn't know if the man was fooling around with him or if Lenalee was actually in trouble. The voice was hard to trace its origin to; it rang out in the emptiness that was the forest all around him.

"**I will consume her, Exorcist. She will be mi—…ugh."**

Allen nearly tripped over himself. What had made him stop taunting him…? Thinking back on the man's voice, it felt as if he was interrupted; as if he was in pain. That must mean that Lenalee was fighting him as he spoke!

Allen quickly took to the treetops. He didn't know how the battle was holding out, but he was sure that Lenalee couldn't last forever. Allen considered which way to run. Left or right? Forwards, or back the way he came? Allen held in the urge to scream. He didn't have time for this shit!

He needed to clear the trees and fog. Yes, that is precisely what needs to be done! Removing the trees and fog will remove obstacles and actually allow him to see properly.

He vaguely remembered a signature move he had used during his earlier adventures as an Exorcist. If he recalled correctly, he had leveled a graveyard with this move. Nostalgia ringed in his head as he soared into the air, ready to drop to the ground.

"_Cross Grave_!"

* * *

**Lenalee Lee**

"**Akuma? Please, do not offend me by confusing such vermin with something as such as I."**

Lenalee swiftly activated her Dark Boots and got in a defensive stance. The voice reverberated all around her, surrounding her with his smooth, deep voice. She had to admit, that _thing's_ voice was _hot_.

She took a few steps forward, toward the bulk of the trees. Allen stood behind her with a dreamy look on his face as his head tilted to the left completely. Was Allen…gay? She hoped not, but the way he stared in a dreamy daze when he heard that voice, and the way he swung with Kanda…

"**My voice captures many mortals. Though you can never be sure if a man has…**_**abnormal **_**preferences." **the voice rang out again, highly amused and mocking.

Lenalee turned to observe her crush one more time. He was vegetating on the ground that he was standing on; completely drawn from reality. Her eyes narrowed and she stepped away from him; he was no good in this fight. She would have to take this battle elsewhere, or else he could take some punishment.

She broke for the trees, using her Dark Boots to accelerate until she was a blur. She sensed whatever was following her was keeping up, which was pretty unsettling. Its presence was a dark one, mysterious and eerie.

"Why didn't you hypnotize me?" Lenalee demanded as she ran through the trees.

"**The thrill of the hunt is in the fight of the prey." **the voice growled huskily.

'I'll show you some fight…' Lenalee thought to herself, tensing up.

Lenalee saw a dark figure in the corner of her eye, stalking her as it slowly caught up. Braking harshly, she swung her leg towards her opposite shoulder, slamming it into whatever the _hell_ was following her.

Lenalee was dumbfounded as she found herself looking down at an elderly man lying on the ground, clutching an obviously broken nose. He looked ancient and decrepit; like, as in, a stiff wind could knock him off his feet. He looked like an older version of the-already-morbidly -old Clint Eastwood. Except with a broken nose. And fangs. Lots and lots of fangs.

He got up slowly as he eyed her with squinted disapproval. His nose was squashed, looking like a brutal tomato murder scene, ruining the Clint Eastwood allusion. She could've pitied him, but he went and had to attempt murder.

"**I did not expect one such as you to attack an opponent when he is in conversation with another."** the man growled as he rose.

Lenalee almost giggled when she heard his new voice. It was still deep and alluring, except now his ruined nasal made it a complete turn-off. But now was not the time to lose concentration.

"You were talking…?" Lenalee questioned stupidly, until a lightbulb went off in her head, "That means you can speak through minds…!"

The ancient refused to answer, and lunged at her. She quickly dodged, sidestepping and sending another kick towards his face. The old man hissed and parried the strike, moving closer to get out of reach from her long legs. He lashed out again, this time aiming for the leg planted on the ground.

"You can talk out loud with one person, and then communicate with another in an entirely different method…" Lenalee thought out loud as she dodged and flew through the trees, "And you can manipulate your voice to hypnotize your 'prey'."

The old man growled in anticipation as he got closer to her skin with every swipe of his sharp nails. Lenalee hummed in thought as she narrowly dodged another onslaught, but by no means underestimated her opponent. The gears in her head were churning as she deduced the nature of this man; after all, knowing was half the battle, right?

Landing back down on the ground, Lenalee quickly steeled herself against the massive trunk of a tree. As if on cue, the geezer came hurling out from the tree branches and headed straight for her. Waiting till the last moment, she sidestepped coolly, hair whipping around from the force of the impact. The senior had managed to get his deadly-sharp nails stuck in the tree trunk, forcing the tree to collapse to the ground with his arm.

Old age had definitely _not_ been kind to the geezer. He lay on the ground, panting bitterly as he glared at Lenalee, tugging at his tree-arm. She walked up to him, ready for interrogation. Before she could even speak, the old man sent a sneer her way and a lecherous gleam twinkled in his eyes.

"**Black lace…?" **the man wheezed mischievously, **"Do your parents know what you are wearing, child?"**

Oh, that was it. The last thing she needed was a pervert staring up her skirt. She had plenty of those in the Order already. She sent a brutal kick into his face, aiming for the broken nose. When she hit her mark, a satisfying _thud_ reverberated throughout the forest.

The pug-nosed Clint Eastwood swore violently as he clutched his nose for the second time.

"**You scum-sucking, Catholic, pig-sow!" **the man snarled, spitting a glob of blood and saliva.

_On her designer mini-skirt._

She took a moment to beat on him senseless before the interrogation resumed. She stood over him wearily; ready to dodge another glob of spit.

"Okay, so just—"

Lenalee was cut off when an explosion of supernova took place, a surge of white light enveloping everything around her. She was forced to shut her eyes before they were blinded, and the next thing she knew, she was flying through the air. Was that Allen? That idiot never did really know how powerful he was. She would have a lengthy talk about this, but not right now. Now, she needed to stay alive.

Smashing her head into a thick tree wasn't helping.

* * *

When Lenalee came to, everything was spinning in circles. Dust and wood chips floated around in the air as the very air felt as if it had been struck. Lenalee brought her hand up to tentatively inspect her aching head. She felt something wet and slick against the side of her head.

Blood.

Lenalee groaned in exasperation. Great, just great. Now she lost her target, got a headache the equivalent to thirty days' worth of hangovers, and now she was bleeding out. The blood ran down the side of her face in thick torrents, causing her to feel sick. But she still had a job to do, and damned if she wasn't going to end it.

She got up shakily and inspected her surroundings the best she could. All she could make of the swirling, double-vision world was that Allen hit her hard. In fact, he had hit _everything_ hard; the entire forest felt leveled. Even the ground was upturned, replacing hard-packed dirt with soft, moist soil.

She heard the blood-filled coughs and wheezes before she saw the pathetic figure laid spread-eagle on the upturned soil. She limped her way over to the geezer-monster; falling on her knees the moment she got besides him. She had barely any strength left anymore.

When the old man spotted her, he chuckled throatily and stared into the dark sky with glazed eyes.

"**If I had been 200 years younger, this would have never happened." **the geezer wheezed amusedly, sneering at the sky, **"I would have killed you all."**

"**But perhaps it really is my time now. After all these years, spending my life alone as the last never stopped hurting." **the old man continued as he smiled at Lenalee, blood leaking at the corner of his mouth, **"I am the last, child. I must leave behind a legacy."**

Lenalee frowned softly in suspicion. "You're the last one? I don't really understand." she continued, edging closer to the man, "What do you mean 'leaving behind a legacy'? Just what _are_ you?"

"**I am the last of my kind, child. I will be leaving this world soon…" **he rasped, motioning with a finger to come closer, **"Come closer. It is too difficult to talk now."**

Naively, Lenalee sunk her head down to match his lips with her ear, leaving the entire side of her neck wide open. The old man smiled as Lenalee cocked her head to listen carefully; she couldn't see his sinister sneer. She was too gullible.

"**I am a Child of the Night. A Bloodsucker, a monster." **the man crooned, grabbing Lenalee harshly before she could pull away.

Using the last of his strength, he turned and landed roughly on top of her, baring his fangs. Lenalee wanted to scream, but in her panic, forgot how. He got closer to Lenalee, staring into her shocked, frightened eyes with an intense hunger.

"**I am…a **_**Vampire**_**."**

Lenalee finally managed to scream as he plunged his fangs into her neck.

* * *

**A/N:** (He did the Mash!)

He did the Monster Mash!

(The Monster Mash!)

It was a graveyard smash!~

I'm weird...Constructive criticism would be really awesome. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	2. Never So Much Blood

**A/N: **'Sup. There's pizza in the fridge if you want some. I don't own DGM or _The Horror of Our Love _by _Ludo_.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**Never So Much Blood**

"_**I want to be a vampire. They're the coolest monsters." **_**– Gerard Way**

* * *

**Allen Walker**

He woke up in a daze. Standing up, Allen suddenly realized that the world was spinning all around him, complete with flashes of light and double images. Back to the ground he goes. At this point, he felt like what Master looked like after a Saturday night. Allen began retching at the thought.

Getting to his knees, Allen took a moment to compose himself. Of all the life-and-death situations, _now_ was a good time to puke? Taking deep breaths, Allen got up from the ground. A fluttering golden ball managed to land on top of his head, nestling comfortably in his albino hair.

"Good to know you're still here, Tim…" Allen muttered, ignoring his golem's displeasured hiss.

Allen figured Tim was still mad at him for _almost_ killing him with that attack.

Allen had begun walki—

_Oh dear God!_

Allen swore loudly and began to sprint into the mist. How could he have been so stupid? He completely forgot about Lenalee and the voice. Shouting into the mist for Lenalee, he heard a faint scream coming from his left.

Charging through the mist, leaping over mangled trees and raked soil, Allen realized that he couldn't find her on his own. His sense of direction was bad enough as it is, being in a massive forest wasn't helping his odds. Idea time. Allen grabbed hold of his golem's tail, disregarding Timcanpy's enraged snarling, and held him high.

"Please, Tim, just this once? Please help Lenalee." Allen begged, using the Bambi-eyes to full effect.

Tim wriggled around in the air for a moment, contemplating whether or not to help, before chomping on Allen's nose. Hard.

As Allen held his nose with streaming eyes, swearing colorfully, Tim took to the air. The little ball of vicious whipped around in a circle before going rigid, pointing Allen to his destination.

In possibly the most nasally voice of all time, Allen thanked his golem. "Thanks, Tim!"

Allen was, once again, running through the destroyed forest, vision seriously impaired by the mist. The only thing on Allen's mind was Lenalee and her safety. As Allen stepped into what felt like a clearing, his little GPS system whirled in the air, signaling their stop.

"Lenalee? Lenalee?!" Allen called out, stepping cautiously.

"Ngghh…Ahhh…"

Allen's eyes swept over the direction where the sound came from. What he saw next, his virgin eyes would never be able to take again.

Lenalee lay on her back, legs folded up with her skirt hiked dangerously up. An old, wrinkly man was lodged in between her legs, on top of her, head buried in her neck. She had a heavy-set blush on her face as she feebly attempted to push off the old man between her legs. Said man in question was too busy with what debauchery he was committing to notice Allen.

…Sweet Jesus. Some things cannot be unseen.

Allen stared at the couple of twisting, struggling bodies on the ground before his virgin modesty meter went off the charts. Torched faced and shaking, Allen quickly questioned if there was a god before he flipped his lid.

Allen began muttering blasphemies such as "That's illegal…th-that…that's _illegal_…" before he snapped. Completely.

"She underage! SHE'S UNDERAGE!"

Allen took a minute to stutter and blush like the pathetic virgin he was until Lenalee snapped him into attention.

"Allen-kun…ngghh…now would…be a good…ah...time to help…." Lenalee said through her teeth, trying hard not to snap at the British teen.

Sword of Exorcism in hand, Allen quickly closed the gap between them. Much to his chagrin, Allen was slightly jealous of the old man. But this wasn't about said jealousy. This was about protecting the girl he loved…okay, maybe it was a little bit of jealousy as well.

Pointing the holy broadsword downwards, Allen brought down the blade, spearing through the geezer and Lenalee. It was widely known that Allen's sword only harmed things that were unholy. But why were there two screams that echoed in the night?

No. No no no no no no no.

Lenalee lay on the ground, pinned by the sword with her back arched up towards the sky. Tears flown freely down her constricted eyes as she held her head in between her hands, screaming in pain. Oh god, oh god, oh god, how did this happen? The blade was only supposed to harm things with impurity in them, not innocent Exorcists!

Allen rushed to Lenalee's side; nothing else really mattered to him anymore. Her skin is paler than usual as she shook, pain racking her body. She let out a soft whimper as she sucked in air through her teeth. Allen never felt so helpless in his life, so _useless_. What was the use in caring for her and loving her if _he couldn't help her_?

Picking her up in his arms, Allen quickly began to run, trying hard to ignore her whimpering and moans of pain. To ignore the tears and soft cries for help as the blood begins to soak her jacket. Allen grit his teeth as he made his descent.

He tried to ignore the old man's final death sneer plastered on his face.

* * *

**Hobo-Santa Carriage Rider**

Wake up. Eat. Farm. Eat. Drive. Eat.

There wasn't much to Jebel Dobos's life was a small farmer and carriage driver. He would wake up in the early dawn of morning, eat his mushy oatmeal and muffin, go outside to tend to his crops, go inside at lunch for a break and meal, go back outside and drive rich folks around, and then eat dinner.

Add a 5 hour sleep to the end of the schedule and he has his entire week planned out. There wasn't much to do around where he lived. And that was how he liked it. Jebel preferred the solitude and peace.

It wasn't because he was antisocial, no in fact, he would get awful lonely at times. He just preferred continuity. Change was scary, and change wasn't good. His entire life, he strived for plain, boring, and peaceful, and look where that got him. Exactly where he wanted.

Peace, quiet, simplicity, and two dogs to keep him company. What more could a poor old man want?

Everything was perfect.

But as he was tending to his cabbage out in the back, the dogs began to perk up and go ballistic. Where was said peace? The quiet? Maybe the exorcists have returned. Maybe they haven't been eaten alive by whatever the hell lives up there.

Grumbling, Jebel scratched his bum as he went out in the front to meet whatever was making that racket. Cleaning his hands with a rag, he shouldered open the front door, only to drop his rag in pure shock.

He didn't know how, but Jebel was grateful his heart hadn't exploded right then and there.

The boy exorcist—the one with the funny hair and scar— was kneeling in front of him, sweat on his brow and blood all over his front. What was even more frightening was the pretty little thing on the ground in front of him, looking like she just got maimed by a wild wolf.

There was blood everywhere.

"We need a ride to the nearest hospital! Now!"

There was a pregnant pause as he stared at the boy and girl bleeding all over each other. Gaining his nerves back, Jebel quickly went back inside to grab more rags. He had a feeling he would need them soon.

Managing to knock over everything in his way, the portly man managed to find a bottle of whiskey, some rags, and a first aid kit. He bust back outside, handing the strange boy his trinkets.

"Hurry n' get the girl n' there." he grunted at the exorcist, "I'll go n' get d' horses."

He hobbled over to the stables as fast as he could. Age was not kind to his gimp knees at this moment. He grabbed his two finest horses and reined them in. He led them back around back to the carriage. Tying them up quickly, Jebel sat in the front and drove to meet the boy in the front.

Off the carriage and back inside the house he goes. His knees were really killing him now.

The boy knelt beside the poor girl, who was bleeding all over his floor. The first aid kit and rags seemed to have yet been used.

"Boy, y' got t' use the things I gave ya!" Jebel quickly knelt over the girl, unzipping her jacket and lifting her shirt up past her abdomen.

The boy quickly put the blame on him. "I didn't know you even handed me these things, sir! What are these, anyways?"

Fancy-pants exorcists and their high-tech medical equipment. Jebel didn't really blame the kid for not knowing what these poor, shoddy, simple kits were.

"The kit n' rags r' for her." Jebel quickly cleared the blood with the rags, soaking up the red liquid.

"Then what's the alcohol for?" the boy began helping him clean the wounds.

"Fer m' nerves." Jebel grimly opened the bottle and took a heavy swig, then proceeded to pour it on the girl's wounds, "An' fer her."

Jebel could swear on his life that the girl's unconscious shrieks could have deafened him. But he didn't blame her. Whiskey on a wound could kick like a _bitch_ some times.

"Allen-kun! Allen!" she weakly moaned, still comatose.

Jebel's gaze softened as he looked to his left, seeing the boy pale and scared for her life. He must have been the 'Allen' the pretty girl was screaming for. The boy's hand was tightly clasped in hers. As Jebel continued to dress her wounds, he noticed something odd.

The wounds from her neck have completely healed. The only thing that remained from her neck was some dried blood. Jebel squinted at the wound with suspicion, before hauling her body up to the carriage outside. It was probably nothing; just some insane healing ability of exorcist and whatnot.

As he loaded the girl into the carriage and made sure the boy was inside, Jebel couldn't help but moan in exasperation.

Jesus Christ, where was the peace and quiet that was so soothing so long ago? Jebel couldn't stop the shaking in his hands after how much blood was spilled on his floor. He wondered if a human could even bleed that much a still live. But then again, those exorcists were ways away from being 'human'.

But then again, Jebel couldn't shake off the sinking feeling whenever he thought off that girl. When he stared at her, something set him off with a sinister feeling. Almost as if something deep inside of him told him to…run away?

But that was preposterous. She was just a young woman, nothing to be afraid of.

And that was when the bloodcurdling screams started from inside the carriage.

* * *

**A/N: **Yep. A short n' sweet. Don't kill me, I love you. Some reviews would be awesome.


	3. Tonight Will Be the Night

**A/N: **School and sports are _pounding_ me in the ass. On that note, please enjoy the chapter. I do not own DGM or _Fall For You _by _Secondhand Serenade_.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

**Tonight Will Be the Night**

"_**Vampire teeth really aren't efficient, are they? It looks very messy." **_**– Saoirse Ronan**

* * *

**Allen Walker**

Allen rested his head between his palms.

He sighed tiredly as he was leaning over, resting his elbows on his knees and shifting his weight forward, ignoring the creaky protests of the old hospital chair. The hospital room was completely silent and still, save for the old creaky chair. Its rebellious squeaks ruined the silent, brooding, moonlight-lit atmosphere the stuffy hospital room provided.

Stupid chair.

It had been almost a complete day since he arrived to the hospital, carrying a bleeding Lenalee up to the reception desk. She had been screaming while comatose the entire time they were traveling to the hospital.

The pale faces of the doctors and nurses had forewarned Allen of the worst: she was going to die. But the bad news never came.

In fact, only good news ever came from the doctor's lips. Her internal organs were stable, the blood in her body had been replenished, and no continuing hemorrhages. All was well. The doctor said it was an amazing recovery, and praised the work of Christ and the Holy Father.

Christ and Holy Father indeed.

Allen couldn't help but feel suspicious about all these turn of events. It wasn't that he was unhappy with Lenalee's progress so far: he felt nothing but total concern for her recovery and health lately. But the way that the humungous gash in her stomach instantly healed, the way the cut on her neck had suddenly stopped bleeding…

Allen got up silently as to not alert Lenalee, who was slumbering right beside him, tucked into a hospital bed. He took a moment to soak in her beauty, when there would be no beautiful amethyst to stare back, forcing him to look away. The cute slope of her nose, her graceful eyelashes, her full lips. Her porcelain skin melded perfectly with the beams of the moonlight, looking pale and perfect.

He didn't deserve her.

It was his fault she was in there, in that pure white cotton coffin. But how had she been affected by the sword? It only harmed the unholy and impure…

Allen slowly turned Lenalee's face with a gentle touch, revealing the skin of her neck. He stared into her neck, where the bleeding had come from. Allen couldn't tell much from the dark, but there appeared to be no scars, nothing to really tip off she had been injured there…until his fingers ran across two minute dips. They weren't deep, but noticeable enough to the touch, probably enough if Allen looked carefully in the light.

Were they…fang marks?

Allen thought back to the night in the forest with the…thing. It took the appearance of an old, decrepit man. The ancient thing had a magical, alluring voice, able to seduce and beguile. Finally, Allen saw it on top of Lenalee…head buried in her neck. A cold feeling lurched in the depths of Allen's chest as his hand slowly left her neck.

Shaking palms and twitching fingers, Allen gently pinched the hem of the white cotton shirt she was forced to wear. The hem was lifted to reveal her soft pale stomach. Allen's breath was taken away as the moonlight granted him the sight to her scar.

It was pink, still slightly raw, and it delved into the skin like a valley. It was long, stretching horizontally across her stomach where his blade had been previously. It felt smooth to the touch; the skin around the scarred tissue was slightly swollen and looked painful. Allen gently ran his finger along the scar, feeling the smooth pink that ran horizontally along Lenalee's stomach.

Allen had found the thing on top of Lenalee, head buried in her neck. There were two dips in the same side of her neck, suspiciously formed like fang marks. If the Blade of Exorcism only harmed things that were unholy…

Lenalee's eyes shot open in the dark, sending Allen's heart halfway to hell.

Her beautiful mauve eyes shook wildly, irises constricted into slits. She looked terrified and in pain. Her hands flew out to Allen's neck, pulling him into her on the bed. In a flustered state of retardedness, Allen's own pairs of hands flew out sideways to catch his fall; his Komui senses were tingling.

Sharp pain nipped at his right hand: he slammed a glass of water on his palm, effectively cutting a long gash into it. Allen gritted his teeth as he was roughly pulled into a hasty, fumbling embrace. Lenalee held onto Allen's neck, burying her face into the tiny crack provided from her arm and his check. They were lying down, the white-haired clown on top of the amethyst butterfly.

Allen was extremely distraught almost as much as he was hot and bothered; this clown knew how deep in he would be if Lenalee's golem would record this and send it to Komui. But all thought of homicidal brothers and torture flew away when Allen heard Lenalee's small shaky voice.

"Allen…Allen…" Lenalee whimpered and sobbed, forgetting the honorifics, hugging Allen tighter and burying her face deeper, "It hurts…make it stop…"

Allen couldn't help but be reminded yet again what he did to her; hell, he even hurt _himself_. He could feel the blood flow deeply off his palm that was still strained against the wooden bedside table. Blood loss and friendly fire seems to have been the common theme of these last two nights.

He had to comfort her. "It's going to be okay, Lenalee…Everything is going to be alright."

He slowly detached himself from her vulture grip, much to his chagrin. Her whimpers and moans for him only made him want to bury himself deeper in her. Her constricted pupils stared wildly, yet with an empty void to suggest comatose. Was she awake or not?

Allen was about ready to shit his pants from worry. "Lenalee? Are you awake?"

Violet eyes stare into nothingness. The pair of silvers crinkles and narrows with concern. Allen brings his hands up to cup her face.

"Are you okay Lenalee?"

The forgotten gash on his hands leaves a mark on her cheek. Red splashes against the perfect canvas of pale skin. Suddenly, Lenalee shudders and breathes in violently. Her eyes widened even more than already possible and she looks—no, _feels_ awake now.

Wide mauve eyes slowly dim into a dream-like state. Allen looked on in complete shock as the violet slowly got drowned out by the deep crimson in her eyes. She began to pant heavily, as is she ran a mile, giving Allen a dreamy, sultry look.

Allen felt as if he was watching from someone else's eyes. He couldn't move. The look Lenalee gave him, the flush on her cheeks, and the desperate panting had Allen redder than an innocent school girl and harder than a repeat offender in the shower stalls with fresh meat bending over to pick up his soap.

She took his right hand to her lips, grazing her lips gently against his palm. It tickled, but something deep inside of him wanted her to go on. She slowly stuck out a hesitant tongue, just enough to see the beginning first half of her tongue. She gingerly traced his gash with the pink muscle, gently grazing the sensitive skin. Allen sucked in air through his teeth as he continued to watch.

Something magical was taking place, and he didn't mean the good kind. He felt as if he couldn't move—he didn't want to move. Lenalee grew bolder as she released the rest of her tongue, sending searing hot licks against his palm as she shut her eyes with obvious bliss. After licking the wound thoroughly, she proceeded to place her lips on the wound and kissed it before sucking on the still-bleeding wound.

The blush on her face grew heavier as she moaned hotly into his hand. Oh dear god she was really testing him now. When had they been sitting up on the bed? It felt as if 5 hours had passed, when in reality the clock on the wall had ticked down once. And since when had he been distracted?

The gentle yet firm sucking was joined by a curious tongue. At this point, she might as well been making out with his hand. Blushing hotly, Allen's thought were drowned out by Lenalee's pleasured moans and mewls as she sucked his blood.

It had just crossed Allen's mind that she was_ enjoying_ this. She was _drinking his blood_. A pale cold hand cupped the side of his face, the cold skin shocking his flushed hot face.

"Allen…my Allen…" Lenalee murmured beautifully, crimson eyes dimmed with blood on her lips, "My beautiful Allen..."

If her moans and looks gave Allen a hard-on, this would certainly make sure his nether-region would have exploded by now. His bloody palm lay on the bed again, ignored by its beautiful succubus. Her dimmed crimson eyes were soft and gentle, yet they pierced into Allen with an underlying intense ferocity.

_Her_ Allen? Did…did she just claim him? Allen felt lost, concerned, horny, and excited all at the same time. Faint lights danced across his vision as he trembled weakly. She had just effectively made out with his hand, sucked his blood from it, and called him hers. If this wasn't a sign, Allen would never talk to women again.

Wait…her eyes were red. Not a hard, bright red, but more of a dull, deep crimson. Like blood. She had two fang marks in her neck, and she had inhuman healing properties. The holy blade, only capable of harming unholy beings, injured her. _She had drunk his blood_.

Staring into her crimson eyes, Allen found himself getting sleepy. He felt sluggish and content. Weak with happiness.

"Le…lena…?"

A faint flicker of a warning rang in his head. His murky state of mind reminded him of books and tales of unholy beings who took refuge in the dark. They ruled the night, feeding upon human blood, marking men and women for themselves like cattle.

"Va…vam…" Allen weakly murmured, slowly leaning forward into Lenalee.

As he fell on top of her, Lenalee's graceful arms snaked around his torso, gently embracing him. He found himself nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck, relishing in her scent. He could feel sleep slowly taking over; the black inking out his tired vision. There was something seriously wrong with letting his guard down with her at the moment but he didn't care.

He felt so good, so warm and sluggish. And she smelled so good. She was like a rose; so beautiful and graceful. He ignored the uneasy feelings deep in his chest and buried himself deeper into his beautiful black rose.

But what he didn't know was that roses had thorns.

_Vampire._

* * *

**A/N: **It's been a while, huh? I'll try my best to upload, so don't hate me.


	4. Can't Stop

**A/N: **Sorry for the long wait you guys! I do not own DGM, nor do I own _Can't Stop _by _Red Hot Chili Peppers_. Freakin' love that song.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**Can't Stop**

"_**My all-time favorite program in my entire life was 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer'." **_**– Gail Collins**

* * *

**Allen Walker**

His eyes opened to the sweet amethyst color of Lenalee's orbs.

The twilight world froze for a moment, and Allen could hear his heartbeat. Staring wide-eyed into Lenalee's own, a slow blush crept up his face. Allen seemed to wear the same mask of shock and embarrassment as the beautiful girl on her hands and knees hovering over him.

In a flustered mess of movement and limps, Allen and Lenalee found themselves sitting on the edge of her hospital bed, staring awkwardly at the floor beneath them. The moonlight and candles provided stunning shadows that seemed to dance on the cold marble floor. Has it been a whole day since he had passed out? Or was it just later in the night?

The silence between them was deafening.

"Uh, so…we, we should get going back home, huh?" Lenalee squeaked, a blush hot on her face.

Allen tilted his head to meet her flustered gaze and nodded meekly.

* * *

The train ride back home to HQ, despite its amazing midnight scenery and pensive peacefulness, was awkward at best. For reasons Allen pretended was beyond him, Lenalee refused to sit across from him in their private. They sat beside each other, Allen distractedly looking out the window and Lenalee seated rigid with her eyes on the floor. Allen wasn't one for chatter, but this silence was ridiculous. Social awkwardness be damned, he _will_ have a conversation about what took place the night before. He would have to speak slowly and carefully however; he felt rather slow at the moment.

Allen decided to go for the gentle, understanding approach, which was his default anyways. "Lenalee, could—"

""I—I don't know what's wrong with me!" Lenalee immediately yelped, "I'm really sorry about what happened last night and I know it was really scary and strange for Allen-kun, too! I—I—"

Her face was torched red, and from the slight tremors of her hands and shoulders, Allen could tell she was scared and embarrassed.

"Lenalee, it's alright." Allen assured the Chinese Exorcist soothingly, hiding his own fear and discomfort.

If Allen didn't show it, he was seriously spooked. But he decided to flow with it, and rather than run from the problem, he would tackle it head on.

"Just tell me how it happened." Allen gently said, putting a calm hand on her trembling shoulder.

Lenalee took a deep breath and sighed. "I don't know, Allen-kun. After the man bit me, it was just…black. I didn't hear a sound or feel anything."

"But then…you. I felt something pulling within me, like something was stirring inside of me, and I felt pain. So much pain. I woke up and I saw you, and it felt like my body was moving by itself."

"The scar hurt so much." Lenalee whispered, faint fingertips, brushing gingerly against her abdominal.

Allen remembered the desperation, the pain in her eyes. He noticed she hadn't mentioned holding him tightly against her. But his memory went as far as that, the rest was murky waters. Allen felt frustrated with his lack of intelligence, wit, and memory at the moment. Something was lulling his mind away, and it definitely wasn't sleep.

"I…I drank your blood, didn't I?" Lenalee asked nervously.

Allen nodded, deep in thought as he trudged through those murky waters that were his memories. Lenalee nervously licked her lips and stared at the floor yet again, but this time with calm pensiveness, and if Allen could get away with it, a little desire flickered in her eyes.

"It was so sweet…it was beautiful." Lenalee whispered faintly, eyes glued to the floor faint lust and hunger, "The color, the smell…it…I…"

Allen was getting nervous. He laughed tightly, his nerves getting the better of him now.

"Um. I—I don't think you can describe blood as sweet or beautiful, Lenalee…"

Lenalee suddenly snapped her head back up, eyes wide and in shock. She looked dazed and confused for a moment, but returned to her normal self. Lenalee's face shifted into something like horror as she realized what she had said moments ago.

"I—I think something's wrong with me." Lenalee replied weakly.

Allen mused silently while mulling this over. What had caused her to do something as morbid as drinking his blood? Then Allen remembered she was bitten by something non-human. Suddenly, the murky waters became much clearer now.

And then it hit him all at once.

The night before, right when he fell into deep unconsciousness, he had suspected she was a—

"Tea and Şarlotă, ma'am and sir?"

Allen sighed. His thought had been interrupted by the server coming into their little compartment in the train. His thought process has really been slowed down since the mission, Allen thought to himself. That mission had seriously worn him down. The thought reaching him had been swiftly spirited away, and Allen was left with the cold disappointment that was nothing. Oh well, Allen thought to himself, the tea and dessert should help him think better. Besides, Allen enjoyed the little chocolate desserts very much.

"Fifteen for me and the miss here." Allen said with slight mirth, happy he could eat.

"Um. Sir, isn't that a bit too much…for two people?" the server looked back and forth nervously between Allen and Lenalee.

"Don't worry, you haven't seen him eat." Lenalee said in a joking manner, smiling slightly.

Laughing lightly, the attendant nodded and brought forth the warm beverage and sweet desserts. Upon seeing the delicious and beautifully dressed dessert, Lenalee had a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

Allen felt relieved at seeing the young woman smile. Things felt like they were normal for a fleeting moment.

If only, if only.

After eating fourteen sweet, delicious chocolate desserts, Allen felt a little more satisfied. He stared at the window to the right of him, noticing the thin film of frost and fog that encased the otherwise clear glass. Allen had forgotten that they weren't in Romania anymore, and instead, quickly approaching the Black Order's European Branch headquarters in England. Allen leaned into the frigid glass, the freezing glass feeling like ice against Allen's skin. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Allen was thankful for the freezing sensation on his cheek; it kept him awake.

As his breath danced across the window, Allen contemplated whether or not he should fall asleep. He would really love nothing more than to completely wipe out and not wake until the next day, but his gut told him to stay awake as much as possible.

Allen didn't like the way Lenalee was eyeing his neck.

But as silent moments passed, and Allen thought a bit more carefully, he decided that it wouldn't be all that bad to sleep with Lenalee around. It wasn't as if she couldn't control herself. She wouldn't lose control and suck the blood out of Allen completely as he slept….right?

Right?

_Yes_, Allen decided _I should trust Lenalee._ Allen tore his eyes away from the reflective smooth glass and turned to Lenalee, giving her one last tired smile before going to sleep. He slowly closed his eyes, and began dozing off.

* * *

Allen bit his lip as he drifted between being half-asleep and half-awake. He felt a surge of pleasure, his skin feeling light, feathery kisses and nips along his neck. Allen groaned softly before opening his eyes. In a shot of panic, Allen realized where the pleasure was coming from.

Lenalee was seated close to him, tilting over against his body as she pinned his upper body against where he was leaning against in his sleep. Allen raised his hands to stop Lenalee, but was immediately halted by a pair of strong, cold hands. He could feel her soft lips gently caressing his skin.

"Mm…Please, Allen-kun…" Lenalee murmured against his skin, speaking in-between planting kisses and nips along his pale, smooth neck, "Just stay still…"

Allen shivered in savage delight, sighing deeply with pleasure as Lenalee continued her tender ministrations against his skin. Somehow, he felt himself calm down and lay still, accepting the course of actions taking place.

"I've been eyeing that vein in your neck forever, Allen-kun…" Lenalee whispered as she began to suckle on his neck.

Allen felt himself breathing heavily, eyes dimmed with pleasure as his hot, ragged breaths fogged the window his head was leaning against. He soon felt a soft, curious hand leave his and travel up his exorcist jacket, exploring his skin and lithe muscles. As she softly caressed his midsection, Lenalee took Allen's skin into her mouth and began to suck the flesh eagerly, leaving a deep bruise in his otherwise flawless skin.

After a moment of kissing and caressing, Allen felt Lenalee leaving his neck. Allen tilted his head in her direction, trembling and panting desperately as his dimmed eyes stared into Lenalee's crimson ones.

It took a while for him to notice her eyes were not her regular lilac color.

Allen wanted to struggle, to move, but he found he couldn't move. He was completely under Lenalee's spell, and his body was enjoying it.

* * *

**Lenalee Lee**

As ironic as it seemed, Lenalee would swear to God she hadn't intended events to have spiraled down this way.

She was affectionately watching and stroking Allen's head as he napped, but subtle whispers of hunger and lust spoke to her in a veiled voice. She began to notice how she could feel, almost _hear_ his heartbeat. And then her eyes had begun to settle onto his neck, eyeing a beautiful long, pale blue vein in his perfect, flawless skin. It was perfect really, especially since it was located right on the side of his neck, exposed to her as he tilted his body to the right to sleep.

She hadn't meant to, but she found herself suddenly brushing her lips against the beautiful blue vein, savoring his silk skin and exciting heartbeat. It was amazing, to feel the pulse of blood rushing through a vein against her slips, to hear the oxygen enter and leave his lungs. Lenalee found herself kissing and nipping her friend's neck, targeting the brilliant blue vein.

When he woke, his reactions lit a fire within Lenalee. His eyes dimmed and clouded with pleasure and his ragged, desperate pants only increased the desire for Allen's blood. Lenalee softly requested Allen to stay still, and to her great surprise, he immediately complied. That was odd. She could have sworn he was vehemently against her drinking his blood.

When she stopped to admire her work, she could feel his eyes on her. Half-closed in a daze, cheeks flushed a delicious red, Allen never looked so beautiful. Despite his beauty, Lenalee could see there was something wrong. His eyes begged her to stop, but his trembling, hot form lay still for her, begging to be reaped as her reward.

Leaning back forward, Lenalee carefully chose her spot; a deep bruise on his neck, right where his vein lie. Lenalee had kissed and nipped his neck in a haze of blood-lust, but she had sucked his skin in careful calculation on where she would sink her teeth into. She could practically feel the blood rushing into where the bruise lay, supplying the skin and vein with more delicious, sweet blood. Ignoring his pleading look, she was just about to sink her fangs into the pale boy's neck until she heard his final last plea.

"Lenalee…this isn't you." Allen weakly murmured.

She halted for a moment, taking in consideration of what he said. His comment, almost a whisper, had cut deeply into her, bringing her out of the fog that had captured her.

Lenalee, flew away from his side, feeling the hot sting of embarrassment, and even worse, the crushing blow of shame. How dare she take advantage of her best friend? He had trusted her, even going as to sleep calmly beside her, and she broke and violated that trust. She cast her eyes to the floor in guilt.

"I'm sorry, Allen-kun…I…" Lenalee felt the tears sting in her eyes. She slammed open the compartment door, sprinting away from him, the shame and the guilt. The temptation and the pleasure.

She could hear him weakly call out her name, but she didn't care.

She was a monster that can't stop.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm sorry I haven't updated in such a long time. Anyways, how will Allen react to Lenalee running away from him? Will he chase after her? Find out next time.


End file.
